Anders was at stage-center, front, holding a hand-mike and pacing about a small area defined by a red spotlight. Even from this distance Bolan could see the band-aids on his face and a puffy lump beneath one eye. Above and behind him, fanned out like a deck of cards, were the inevitable showpieces' — the technically nude, leggy and beautiful chorus girls who typified the Vegas aura of sexuality. They simply stood there like mannequins — living props reflecting the barrage of multi-colored spotlights roaming their sections of the stage.
Bolan stuck to the aisle nearest the wall and went on around and through the doorway leading backstage. It was regular big-theatre back there, with the usual hustle and bustle of activity. A rock group were taking places and getting set up behind a curtain, stagehands were moving energetically about and preparing the next act, half- clad showgirls wandered about, and through it all the amplified Brooklyn accents of Tommy Anders reigned over the delighted reactions from the audience.
Anders had been in the business quite a few years and had always enjoyed a comfortable following. He'd appeared in a couple of minor movies and had recently been popping up on a variety of television shows, but this 'Vegas stand' had, according to the show business reporters, narked the beginning of a whole new era for this 'acknowledged master of stand-up comedy,' a biting satirist who wrote his own monologues, his most famous lines being directed at the sacred cows of America' enthnic sensitivities.
'I'm not no ethnician, but…' had become an Anders trade-line, an identity piece which shared honors with his other lead-in, 'Now I'm not anti-ethnic, but…
Bolan, half-Polish, had heard and chuckled over many of the routines… and now he was standing in the wings in the reflected glow of a mostly-nude showgirl and listening to the familiar voice declare 'Now listen, I'm not anti-ethnic, but… (pause to allow an anticipatory giggle from the audience)… but I hear they're making a new gangbusters movie in Hollywood. You all remember Eliot Ness and The Untouchables. Listen Ness would get picketed in Hollywood today. Believe it. This new gangbusters flick? The working title is The Unfortunates. They're changing the name: of the criminals to protect the producers. That's right don't laugh Mike Mazurk: has the leading role. He plays a brilliant and brutal FBI agent Sure Georgi Rafi is the big brains at the Hall of Fuzz he's the police commissioner. God's truth. Donald O'Connor is the heavy He's a frustrated song and dance boss who's getting hounded out of his skull by these ratfini feds who keep bugging his rooms and watching him through movie cameras. Yeah, they've got all thi: illegally-obtained evidence showing the boss feeding i SD to a knocked-up stoned, fourteen-year-old prostitute His sister. No, she's not one of the unfortunate; Donald O'Connor is, he's the guy fighting this illegal-evidence game.
'You think I'm kidding. Listen, I hear that Paramount has agreed to change the title of The Godfather They're going to call it The Stepfather. A group of militant atheists objected to the use of religious propaganda in an entertainment medium. I'm not kidding. I'm not no ethnician.
'Paramount already dropped the word Mafia from the dialogue, and I hear they're giving all the characters Anglo-Saxon names. They're working on the author now, Mario Puzo. Want 'em to change his name to Marion Push. You laugh, but I'm entirely serious. That's the way it is in America today.
'I was talking to Leonard Slye just the other day. He's been in trouble with the Violence Commissioner. Over his horse. Yeah, you've all heard of the Wonder Horse. Leonard's gotta change the horse's name. Trigger is a violent name, it gives the kids ideas. Leonard changed his own name years ago, of course, to Roy Rogers, you all remember that. Listen, don't laugh, this's no ethnical joke. Image is a very big thing in this country today. It's a matter of freedom, and civil rights and box office. Can you imagine, on your theatre marquee, Leonard Slye and Trigger, the Wonder Horse? Course not. From now on you'll be seeing Roy Rogers and Leonard, the Peaceful Equine.
'There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with it. It's not anti-ethnic. You ready for the big one? Marion Michael Morrison. Never heard of him? You probably know him as the Duke, or as John Wayne. See, that's not ethnic. Even the WASPs do it.
'Image is very important in this country. What looks better on a billboard — Cary Grant or Archibald Leach? Uh-huh. You're getting the idea. It's not a real big deal, is it. It's a matter of image, that's all. Joseph Levitch gets changed to Jerry Lewis. Why not? Who'd pay to see a show with Martin and Levitch, huh?
'It isn't just actors that get their names fixed. Anybody here ever hear of a guy called Sam Goldfish? Of course not. You know why? Imagine. Metro-Goldfish-Mayer sounds silly, especially with a lion roaring out of the titles. Has anybody caught the smash act just up the street? It's a hubby and wife finger-snapping team, Sidney Leibowitz and Edie Gorme.
'Sure, we all do it. Even the Italians. How many of you haven't heard the great rendition of Lucky Ol' Sun by Frankie LoVecchio, also known as Frankie Laine. Vito Farinola got his name fixed to Vic Damone. But it's not ethnical, it's imagery. This all started a long time before the Godjath — pardon me, the Stepfather: What's that, sir?'
The comic stepped to the edge of the stage and pretended to be conversing with a man in the audience;
'You represent who? The BDBHC. I see. And what did that mean, sir, before it got its name fixed? Oh. 'A Better Deal for Broken Home Children.' And you object to that new title, The Stepfather.'
Anders made a woeful face and returned to his former spot as the audience tittered. 'Things are really getting bad in this country, ladies and gentlemen. It's driving the image-makers nuts. Everybody's getting so gensitive. Open a loor for a lady and you get your home picketed by Women's lib. Have you heard, the emancipated female is now demanding equal rights for names. They say if the kid is coming outta their wombs, it oughta bear their names. I guess that makes sense, come to think of it. But the home run king of the National League, Geraline Mays! ,
'Listen, this all goes back a long way. A few years ago the black civil rights groups demanded the end of blackface routines. They got it. The industry started hiring black actors for black roles. And that was good. But then several groups started demanding an end to black roles that don't beautify the race. No more gardeners or chauffeurs or houseboys, right — none of that jazz. You think the employment picture in Hollywood is gloomy? You should see the black actors weeping, with no more gardeners and houseboys in the scripts.
'Listen, I'm not no ethnician, but… the Fritos Bandito got shot outta the saddle because the Mexican- Americans got uptight over his accent. What's that they're saying about equal employment opportunities? And the funniest commercial in the history of television — the spicy meat balls gig — proved too spicy for the Italian- American living rooms.
'What's going to happen to this country, ladies and gentlemen? What's going to become of it when we're all completely and finally sliced up into militant little minority groups all too damned stiff to laugh with each other. Huh? We're going to have to rewrite all the history books. No slave roles, no immigrant roles, no bad Italians or rotten pioneers, no brawling Irishmen or Italian torpedoes or dumb Polacks, no crusty Englishmen or lazy Mexicans… what the hell is happening to our country, ladies and gentlemen?'
Anders seemed to have forgotten that he was up there to make the people laugh. He was pitching it to them hard and straight now, and no one was laughing, but Bolan could have heard a pin drop in the center of that huge room,
'We've got to look out for everybody's image, that's the most important job facing us today, it seems. We can't mention Al Capone anymore; it makes the Italian-Americans uncomfortable. In our new history books, he'll go down as Alfred Capingwell, a mischievious little rich kid who was a victim of police brutality. Not American police, of course. The 'Society for the Image of Good Cops' will have their say about that. We'll blame it on the damned Canadians, they're starting to get pretty snotty with us anyway, we'll make it the damned Mounties what turned poor little Alfie onto bad times.
'What the hell is happening to this country, ladies and gentlemen? Listen, I'll tell you what's happening. You think I'm Tommy Anders, right? Wrong. My name is not Tommy Anders, I got it fixed years ago. You ready? Meet Guiseppe Androsepitone. It's a good Italian name, but somehow it just wouldn't look good on the billboards. You'd think a name like that, though, would give a guy certain privileges in certain segments of our society, wouldn't you? But just a few hours ago, right outside those doors there, I thought I got mugged by a couple of criminal types. All right, let's be honest… by a couple of Dignified Dagoes. I've got an imaginary hole up here on my head, and underneath these bandaids are some cuts I dreamed up. This mouse under my eye was caused, I guess, by a sloppy sandman.
'Imagination, all of it. I got non-mugged by two Dignified Dagoes who do not belong to the mythological Mafia… and that's the truth. Ask the Attorney General of the United States. He's even forbidden the FBI to use the
